


Collared and Collected

by orphan_account



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode IV: A New Hope, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Alderaan, Choking, DARKEST THING I HAVE EVER WRITTEN, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Death Star, Destruction of Alderaan, F/M, Forced Orgasm, Fucked Up, Horror, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, Leia is now thoroughly traumatized, Non-Consensual Bondage, Predicament Bondage, Psychological Trauma, Tarkin is a Sociopath, The Dark Side of the Force, Torture, Vader has a bad feeling about this, but doesn't know why, evil evil evil, in which i take canon evil and make it worse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-08
Updated: 2016-06-08
Packaged: 2018-07-12 07:42:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7092634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Leia witnesses Alderaan's destruction. Tarkin decides to find out just how broken the Princess is. <b>MIND THE TAGS. DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT.</b><br/><b>Sequel</b> to <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/collections/sw_kinkmeme/works/6770008"><b>Cage and Claw. </b> </a> The same warnings apply. These are <b>DARK AS FUCK. </b></p>
            </blockquote>





	Collared and Collected

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Cage and Claw](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6770008) by [orphan_account](https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account). 



> ...I think I need a shower. A _bleach_ shower. And a good cry. Fuck.
> 
> Based on [**this prompt**](http://starwarskinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/586.html?thread=893258#cmt893258) from the Star Wars Kink Meme:
> 
> 'Thanks to Tarkin touching her face before Alderaan was destroyed, this is a longtime head-canon of mine, FML. Leia/Tarkin dub or non-con on the Death Star, before or after Alderaan was destroyed (both??).'  
>  **With this bonus:**  
>  +10000 Vader finds out and is disgusted because he respects Leia as a worthy opponent ;_; But, unfortunately, he can't do anything about it because he's under orders to obey Tarkin
> 
> Also, the dialogue in the beginning of this is a word-for-word transcription of the Tarkin-Leia conversation in Episode IV right before Alderaan is destroyed (but you guys probably knew that).  
> *

Leia Organa walked into the control room as though she owned it, proud and straight in her delicate dress, seeming taller than she actually was. The Stormtroopers flanking her could have been an honor guard. Vader, her Knight. 

Tarkin’s blood stirred as his eyes flicked to the barely-visible tear on the side of her gown, the shivering defiance in her eyes.

He wanted her again.

Her lip curled with disgust when she spotted him.

“Governor Tarkin! I should have expected to find you holding Vader’s leash…I recognized your foul stench as soon as I was brought on board.”

“Charming, to the last.” He stepped in close, ran the back of his hand down the line of her jaw, and gripped her chin harshly, forcing her face upward. “You have no idea how hard I found it signing the order to terminate your life…” His breath caught – she still reeked of his semen. 

_Can Vader smell it?_ Perhaps he’d ask, later.

Leia’s eyes blazed with hate.

“I’m surprised you had the courage to take responsibility yourself,” she spat, twisting away. Her small body shook with rage, every inch of her poised to strike. _So…alive._ No trace of the interrogation drugs were visible in her dark eyes. Tarkin’s smirk grew. She reminded him of a Corellian dire-cat he’d slain, once upon a time. He’d wounded her, let her bleed, followed the river of gore back to her lair. The beast had almost taken his head off, even as her life drained away.

It was time.

*

Leia was almost grateful that Vader was there. _And isn’t that a thought?_ She’d almost crumpled when Tarkin’s bone-dry fingers had dug into her skin, the memory of those same nails scraping the insides of her thighs shaking her mind apart. But…with Vader at her back – a seven-foot wall of hulking, unyielding menace – she’d somehow been able to look Tarkin in the eye without that cloying, visceral terror flooding her mind. 

It was still there. Oh yes, a pit of boiling black oil with a thin crust, choking her with stinking smoke, to be stepped around, leaped over, but never forgotten. Still there, even if she refused to look.

 _Steady,_ Leia thought. 

“Princess Leia, before your execution – “ 

_Show no fear._

“ --I would like you to be my guest at a ceremony, which will make this battle station operational.” Leia repressed a shiver as she felt his eyes on her. _What is he looking for?_ “No star system will dare oppose the Emperor now.”

 _He wants me to blink._ She sneered instead.

“The more you tighten your grip Tarkin, the more star systems will slip through your fingers.”

“Not after we demonstrate the power of this station.” His smile _cut._ “In a way, you have determined the choice of the planet that will be destroyed first. Since you are…reluctant to provide us with the location of the rebel base…”

_”…I still believe that you can be reasonable,” he purred, tracing slow, sensual circles along the curve of her hip…_

_NO_

Leia pushed the memory back. _Steady…_

“…I have chosen to test its destructive power on your home planet of Alderaan.”

A high, staticky whine filled Leia’s ears.

“No! Alderaan is peaceful we have no weapons you can’t possibly – “

Was that _her_ screaming?

Tarkin whirled on her - _when did he get so close_ \- so abruptly that she jerked back against Vader, her limbs quivering with panic.

“You would prefer another target, a _military_ target? Then name the system!”

Leia’s world shrunk to Vader at her back and Tarkin’s eyes. 

“I grow tired of asking this, so it will be the last time. Where is the rebel base?”

 

*

 

Tarkin stepped forward, pressing her back against Vader, so close that his breath stirred her hair, his mouth grinding into a thin line. She’d pushed him far enough. 

What was she, anyway? Just a tiny, shaking thing in a soiled dress. 

“Dantooine. They’re on Dantooine.”

She couldn’t even look at him.

“There…You see Lord Vader, she can be _reasonable.”_

_And agreeable…When properly motivated._ His lips twisted into a knife-gash of a smile. He gestured lazily.

“Continue with the operation, you may fire when ready.”

“WHAT?” 

“You’re far too trusting. Dantooine is too remote to make an effective demonstration, but don’t worry. We will deal with your rebel friends soon enough.” 

“NO!” She leaped forward, a jagged mix of desperation and fury. Vader hauled her back, effortlessly pinning her to his chest. 

Tarkin breathed deeply and turned his back to her. In this moment of triumph, she was just a flicker of distraction. He felt the rumble of the deck -- _capacitors charging, soon, soon_ \-- down to his bones, shuddered as the energy blast seared through the vacuum. He stepped closer to the viewport, hypnotized by the impossible light.

And Alderaan was gone.

 

*

 

_Gone._

Vader all but pulled her away from the viewport. Leia’s world inverted as the black void where her home had been ground itself into her mind. 

“Where now?” Leia asked dully. Her voice sounded very far away. She glanced at her bound hands, not exactly sure what they were for – maybe picking up things? Or tying knots?

“Your cell,” said Vader, shoving her into the turbolift. “Quickly.”

“Not staying for the party?” she heard herself say. Just before they’d left, a bottle of wine from one of her father’s vineyards had appeared, and was making the rounds of the command center. Several senior officers had descended upon the deck, surrounding Tarkin with loud congratulations. 

Vader looked down at her, his mask blurring and twisting, the vague humanity his mask afforded completely gone. 

“No,” he ground out. 

“No guards?” she asked, laughter bubbling up like acid in her throat. She hadn’t seen a single Stormtrooper since they’d left. “Well, I’m not surprised you don’t want witnesses.”

“WHAT?”

Leia’s senses suddenly screamed back to life as Vader’s grip on her arm tightened. Wrath poured off of him, so deep and wild that she could almost touch it.

“Tarkin got here first, though,” she hissed. “Not that that’s unusual, not for you – “

Leia drew herself up as tall as she could manage and made herself stare down the death’s head. Vader looked away first, and continued down the corridor, his hand a vise. 

“You are mistaken,” he said, after a long silence.

“I see,” said Leia. She believed him. 

 

*

 

_She thought that I – That I would actually --_

Darth Vader seethed, pulling the Dark Side about him, feeding it his rage. 

He’d learned of such…tactics employed in interrogations, both recently, some of it by the hands of high-level Imperial interrogators, and during the Clone Wars, once the clankers figured out what it meant. He did not tolerate it on his own ship. But here, now…His Master had specifically forbidden him to either harm Tarkin or impede him in any way.

_But how would he know?_

Especially today. The Force screamed with the deaths of millions. The Dark Side _feasted_ on their blood and terror. 

He’d have enough _ammunition_ to do…anything.

_Compassion. Weakness. It will be your death._

And in a distant corner of his mind, he still felt the freezing touch of his Master. 

They were two decks away from cell block AA-23 when five Stormtroopers and a black-clad officer caught up with them.

“Order code 75B-60. Leia Organa is to be moved to deck C62, block 4A.”

“I was not notified,” said Vader. 

“Order code 75B-60. Grand Moff Tarkin’s signature.” 

The Princess went rigid in his grip, panic slashing through her shock. He released her arm just as the sound of ripping cloth bled into the Force, and memory welled up around her. 

“Lead the way, Lieutenant,” he growled. A tremor of apprehension from the guards.

“My Lord…Grand Moff Tarkin requires your presence in L87, room Y5. The Intelligence Liaison – “ 

“Understood. Lieutenant…” Vader loomed over the now-shaking man. “Give him my regards.”

Vader ground his teeth painfully as they took her away, that strange, sick feeling he’d experienced during meditation gnawing at his insides. He headed for room Y5, wishing there was time to go to his training hold.

He needed to _kill_ something.

*

 

Leia almost cried out to him. _And wouldn’t that be ridiculous?_ she thought. She had a sudden mental image of breaking free of her guards and clinging to Vader’s arm like a little girl. 

_Steady._

 

*

 

The room was small, approximately what a junior officer could expect for his first billet, but still at least twice the size of Leia’s cell. There were few amenities – a small bed and ‘fresher station, a storage locker, and a metal chair near the bed. The ceiling lamps were bright, almost clinically so. The faint smell of disinfectant permeated the room. 

_Charming,_ Leia thought. She paced the room, casting around for something she could use as a weapon.

No such luck. The bed, chair, and locker were bolted to the floor. The sheets refused to rip, so a makeshift noose or garrote was out of the question, and she doubted that she had the strength to break someone’s skull on the edge of the locker. And they’d cut her nails to the quick during the interrogation.

Nothing to be done.

So she sat in the chair, faced away from the bed, and tried to think of nothing. 

_Two billion, three-hundred-fifty-million people…_ It was just a number, a line in a list. _Abydos: population average five-hundred million. Alderaan: population average two point three billion. Naboo: population average…_

 _I’m in shock,_ Leia thought. _I can’t feel anything. It’s all numbers and data and --_

She was just dropping off to sleep when the door hissed open.

 

*

 

The Princess was on her feet in a flash, despite her obviously cramped legs. 

“I have nothing to say to you,” she said, gripping the back of the chair with white knuckles. 

_A good tactic,_ Tarkin thought. _When someone’s about to fall._

“Are you sure?” he asked, closing the distance. To her credit, she did not back down. “I thought you’d be curious about this room.” Leia’s jaw clenched.

“Enlighten me,” she ground out. 

“This battle station houses over two million sentients,” he said, rounding the chair so that they were face to face. “It is more city than military installation. The vast majority are support staff. There are restaurants, clothing stores…all the comforts of home.”

He watched her carefully. That same shuttered expression that she’d worn in the command center after her world was destroyed – right before Vader removed her – was back. 

_That won’t do._

“The fact is, _Leia,_ that those two million sentients require…entertainment.” He leaned in to whisper. “You’re in a brothel, Leia,” he said. 

Predictably, she lashed out, her face twisting with that feral mix of fear and rage that boiled his blood. He caught her army easily and twisted it behind her back, his other hand whipping up to her neck, hauling her flush against him. 

“Monster,” she hissed, gasping as his thumb dug into the hollow of her throat, stopping her attempt to bite. 

“Oh _Leia,”_ he said in her ear, her struggles only pressing her closer to his growing arousal. “Whatever will you do now? The Senate dissolved, your world dead, your virtue…” He smirked. “Mine. And your Rebellion is hours away from complete destruction…”

A shudder ran through her, then a cry of pain as he tightened his grip on her arm and hauled her head back by her hair, twining cold fingers between the coils, drawing blood. He wrangled her other arm as she tried to break the hold and walked her into the chair, the back of her thighs taking the weight. He dipped her backwards, pressing into her hips, and watched as rage became terror and pain.

“I could snap your spine like a twig,” he murmured, almost gently. He grasped both wrists in one hand and pushed back against her shoulder. She cried out and stopped trying to escape, throwing all of her energy into supporting her spine. 

Tarkin waited until she went limp, shuddering with defeat, and then swept her legs out from under her. He tossed her easily onto the bed, and held her in place with a hand to the throat, pressing just hard enough to drag her back to the present. 

She shuddered convulsively as he leaned over her, squeezing her eyes shut as he cupped her cheek in his hand. 

_Such delicate bones…_

 

*

 

The slap brought everything into sharp, stinging focus.

“Look at me, Leia,” said Tarkin. He closed the distance between them, his face filling her field of vision. “Look. At. Me.” A hand played across her breastbone, heavy and cold through the cloth. 

She did.

_Continue with the operation, you may fire when ready._

Rage surged through her, firing her core, flooding feeling - _strength_ \-- back into her limbs. Leia rammed her knee into his abdomen, knocking the wind out of him. Time slowed to a crawl. His grip on her neck loosened, and she rolled into him - _not away, he’d just snatch her back_ \-- taking them both to the floor. She bounced to her feet and brought her foot down, hard. She missed his neck by inches – he’d rolled out from under her, and was – where _was_ he?

There was a dull flare of pain in the back of her head, and everything went black.

 

*

 

When Leia woke, she was naked. Her arms were stretched over her head, bound to the headboard with Tarkin’s belt. The edges of her vision were swimming, her focus fading in and out in time to the throbbing inside her skull. She did, however, spot her dress, neatly folded on top of the chair, her boots against the wall, aligned at a perfect right angle to said chair. 

“Look at the light, Leia,” said Tarkin. She winced as he checked her pupil response with a small medical penlight. It hurt, but the room was slowly settling back into focus. 

_Unfortunately._

Tarkin sat next to her on the edge of the mattress, the front of his uniform tunic undone, devouring her with his eyes. He dropped the penlight to the floor and leaned over her.

“Now, where were we,” he murmured, cupping her face with his hands, stroking idly along her jaw. “Bite,” he said sharply. “And I will remove your teeth.” Leia nodded shakily. 

_Steady. Steady._

She shut her eyes as he held her jaw still and pulled her into a kiss. It happened too fast for her to counter, so he thrust his tongue deep inside her mouth, his rough grip on her jaw seeming to draw him closer. Leia cried out, accidently opening her mouth wider as she felt long fingers stroke the inside of her thigh. She bucked against him, shaking as he smirked against her skin. He gripped her hard enough to bruise.

“Calm yourself, Leia,” he said. 

“Just…Just get on with it!” she cried, her fingers digging red crescents into her palms. Tarkin leaned back, his smile widening. He shifted closer, planting a thigh between her legs, holding them open.

“I’m in no rush, my dear,” he murmured. “We have made history, you and I. The entire station is celebrating.” He cupped her mound softly, rubbing slow circles up and down her slit with his thumb. Leia shuddered, shame flooding her as heat began to build in her core. “Celebrating a new beginning,” Tarkin continued. “And you, _Leia,_ can take credit for it. Your information – “ He parted her folds with his index finger. “ – has ended this war. You should be rewarded…”

He cupped her left breast and began to stroke gently, rolling her rapidly stiffening nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Leia whimpered – she could feel herself getting wet. Her skin was burning under the hands of the man who had destroyed her world.

_Not this. NO –_

 

*

 

Tarkin hummed with satisfaction at the first gleam of wetness between her thighs. He pressed closer and took her nipple in his mouth, laving the pebbled flesh with his tongue, enjoying the soft swell of the other filling his palm. She lay rigid and pale and small underneath him, her head turned to the side, staring fixedly at the wall. He watched her closely. Sweat had begun to bead between her breasts, and her pulse fluttered like a small bird in her chest. She swallowed convulsively, a pretty pink flush high in her cheeks. _Almost there._

He bit down, just enough pressure to get her attention. She jerked, gave a small cry, her thighs opening ever so slightly. 

“There,” he murmured. “Is this really so bad?” He slid his hand to her hip, tracing the line of her muscle. His breath caught when he found the evidence of yesterday’s activities – dark bruises, swollen and deep, blots of ink on the silken perfection of her hip. Five crescent-shaped scabs – he’d left her cell with blood under his nails. He’d marked her. Tarkin groaned roughly, fighting for control, the need to spread her wide and fuck until she screamed almost overwhelming him.

Instead he laid his hand over the bruises and _squeezed._ It wasn’t an exact fit – he’d taken her from behind in her cell – but the pattern was exquisite. And there would be more soon. 

A sob, a shiver. Tarkin moved back between her thighs, spreading them wide apart with his knees. 

“I want you to enjoy this, Leia,” he said, sliding a finger through her now slick folds. He chuckled. “And I see that you are…It’s all right. I won’t tell.” He slid a finger inside, gripping her hip harder as she clenched around him, just as tight and hot as the last time.

Leia raised her head. Her eyes were bright with tears. 

“I’m going to kill you,” she whispered.

“Perhaps,” he said, opening his pants. “But not today.”

He entered her slowly, beginning with shallow, careful thrusts, coaxing her open until she was flushed and panting, her fingers clawing at the bindings. The patience was worth it – if anything, she grew slicker with each thrust, until his hips met hers and she clamped down around him, wringing a groan from deep inside his throat. Tarkin grit his teeth and held himself still, feeling her tremble. 

_Exquisite._

 

*

 

 _Stupid._ Leia bit back a sob as another jolt of heat shot through her, feeding the molten pleasure building inside. She’d thought he was going to fuck her and leave. Just like last time. Instead he did…this. She couldn’t separate herself from this. 

“Let go, Leia,” Tarkin said in her ear, his voice rough with lust. He bit down on her shoulder and thrust hard. A moan burst from her throat. Her body was throbbing around that burning stretch, and she couldn’t – 

Leia came, biting back a scream, rocking desperately against him, trying to pull him over the edge with her, to make it stop – 

No such luck. _At least,_ Leia thought dimly as he hooked her leg over his shoulder, somehow deeper inside her than before. _He’s not thinking too hard about Dantooine. Mon will know they have me by now. They’ll have time to run...I'll be dead by the time he figures out I lied..._

 

*

 

Tarkin finished the second time she came, and pulled far enough away to watch her face as he filled her with his seed. Fatigue. Disgust. And, still, that beautiful rage.

He stretched out languidly beside her, his body thrumming, and idly stroked her thigh as he caught his breath. 

“Still want to kill me?” 

She stared blankly at the ceiling. A small smile quirked at the corners of her mouth. 

“I won’t need to,” she said quietly. “But I would certainly like to watch.”

Tarkin laughed. 

_A woman after my own heart._

*

Leia tried to sleep. Honestly, it should have been easy. She was back in her cell, back in her clothes, relatively clean, and alone. The steel walls were oddly comforting. She felt worn to the bone, hollow, like she’d been cracked open and scraped out, her insides left behind somewhere. Probably in the control room.

But she couldn’t sleep. A strange, itching, buzzing, _something_ kept running through her mind. Leia rubbed her eyes, bewildered. The only thing she could think of to describe it was time she landed in the hospital with a three-inch cut on her leg. The planet didn’t have much in the way of medical facilities, so they’d had to stitch it up the old-fashioned way. It took time to heal. And it had itched something fierce. 

She squeezed her eyes shut in frustration. It had gotten a lot worse in the last few minutes.

 _That’s it. I’ve lost it,_ Leia thought. 

Then the door hissed open. 

Her first thought was _hide,_ but there was nowhere to hide, so she shut her eyes. Maybe if he thought she was asleep, he’d get close enough for her to take an eye.

Awkward, clanking footsteps shuffled forward. _Ok, it’s a guard._ She opened her eyes.

_…An extremely uncomfortable guard. And really --_

“Short for a Stormtrooper?” 

“Huh? Oh, the uniform…” 

Shorty pulled off his helmet. 

The itching stopped.

**Author's Note:**

>  **Epilogue:**  
>  **Anakin:** What do you think we should do with him?  
>  **Yoda:** Your choice, it is. Waited for you, we did.  
>  **Obi-Wan:** No judgment.  
>  **Qui-Gon:** I think _she_ gets a vote. *beckons*  
>  **Padme:** I have a few ideas.  
>  **Anakin:** ...I love you.  
>  **Padme:** I know.
> 
> ...And I still can't believe I wrote this.


End file.
